Page 23 of Double Play

With a quick scan of her body, I notice she’s not wearing the boxers I lent her, which means, now only a thin layer of cotton separates her from me.

With a heavy breath, I clear my head of visions where I remove said shirt and inspect her fine curves with my hands.

“You scared me,” she whispers. The lights are off inside my place, but city lights trickle into the room despite being stories above the street.

You scare me, I could retort because being close to India, spending this evening with her has stirred up feelings I’ve long suppressed. Desires I decided could never be acted upon.

I’d missed my chance, right?

Slowly, I stand from the couch, exposing my bare chest and a pair of athletic shorts that hang loose on my hips. I don’t miss how India’s gaze drips down my sternum and lingers on my abs a moment before hugging my hip bones, just above the waistband.

My hands fist at my side, allowing her gaze to linger when I want nothing more than to close the distance, press her against the wall and slide my hands beneath my T-shirt covering her breasts.

“What do you need?” I choke out, assuming she desires something other than my groping her body.

“I just wanted a drink of water.”

“Of course.” I start for the kitchen while India leans against the door jamb. I need to pass her to round the peninsula counter, and the nearness gives me a whiff of her lingering scent. Fresh snow. Winter moments. Stolen kisses.

Suddenly, I’m thirsty as well, and I feel her eyes on me as I enter the open space and reach for two glasses on a high shelf. Her silvery gaze sizzles down my spine while I take my time filling two glasses with water. When I turn back around India has moved to the opposite side of the counter.

I step closer as well and hold out the water glass, allowing our fingers to brush during the pass off.

“Thank you.” Her voice is low. Her lids lower. If the lights were on, I imagine I’d catch her blushing.

Instead, I simply feel the heat between us despite the air conditioning cranking.

Wildfire. The energy around us crackles. The flame roaring higher. I can’t get enough water, and I guzzle down my entire glass.

When I set the empty container on the countertop, I catch India watching me. Her eyes wide, while her hands clutch the glass still resting on the counter. She swallows thickly and licks her lips. Slowly, she lifts her glass and sips. But her eyes never leave mine and I’m jealous of a fucking glass.

The way her lips crease over the rim. The way her throat rolls with each swallow.

I’m instantly hard and lean forward, setting my forearms on the cool counter. The cold surface does nothing to lower my temperature. My position is meant to hide my sudden boner, but now I’m level with her breasts. Firm and rounded, and forcing the Terrors logo to stand up a bit.

I’m a fucking mess wanting to know if her nipples are still dusty-colored, peaked and taut.

I clasp my hands together, in an attempt to keep them to myself. Thank goodness for the cabinet between us.

India lowers her glass, barely a sip taken.

“Feel better?” I ask, although my throat is tight.

“Much.” She hums as her gaze lands on my face. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she catalogued my body for another time. Alone time. Which is when I’ll be visualizing her, wearing my tee, mouth wrapped around my hard dick, those silvery eyes staring at me with a glimmer in them, like she’s looking at me now.

Slowly, I press myself upward, sliding my hands apart and bracing them on the edge of the countertop. India takes another review of my chest, my abs, the dark trail of hair leading lower. My cock is stiff and heavy and poking at the waistband, itching to spring above the drawstring.

India doesn’t appear to notice but I don’t know how she can miss the evidence. My body craves hers.

“I should probably . . . ” She tips her head toward Montgomery’s room. “Another long day tomorrow.”

Something is long, all right, and it’s in my shorts. But there’s also longing in my chest to reach for her, to pull her close, even if all I do is hold her against me and inhale her wintery scent.

“Yep.” In all the words in the English language, it’s the only one my brain can find right now.

“Thanks again for the water.” She lifts the glass in salute.

“Any time.” Any time she needs water. Or wants to talk. Or wants me to fuck her.